


Welcome Home

by kitty_fic



Category: Hemlock Grove
Genre: Alternate Universe - Canon, Angst, Fix-It of Sorts, Kidnapping, M/M, Violence
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-04-25
Updated: 2013-04-25
Packaged: 2017-12-09 11:17:15
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,049
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/773595
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/kitty_fic/pseuds/kitty_fic
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Without any doing of his own, he's somehow managed to land here again - the last place he knows he should ever be. Peter knows he's back in Hemlock Grove. The question is why? (AU set after the end of the first season.)</p>
            </blockquote>





	Welcome Home

**Author's Note:**

> This is an idea that hit me and demanded I write it! It’s my answer to the end of the first season. Sorry for the angst. I usually write fluff (or porn)! So maybe I can expand on this at some point to give them a happy ending. Thank you to for the beta and suggestions! All remaining mistakes are most certainly my own.
> 
> Warnings/Contains: kidnapping, captive/captor scenario, violence, unresolved angst, **spoilers** including and especially for the finale. AU set after the finale.

Peter is dragged along blind and he stumbles as he’s shoved roughly to his knees. His arms are bound behind his back, his eyes covered and his mouth gagged. He loses his balance, landing in a sprawl on the cold, hard floor. He waits for the kick, but surprisingly it doesn't come. 

He's been roughed up for the last two days. Since they first caught him and shoved him in the trunk of the car, he’s spent most of his time waiting for the next bruise. 

His eyes are still blindfolded but he doesn't need his vision to make a damn good guess where he is. He can smell the familiarity all around him. He can feel it in his balls.

He struggles to his knees again as he reconciles himself with his fate. He knows he's back in Hemlock Grove. The question is why?

He's spent the last several months fighting the urge to return here. Despite his rambling nature, he knew he wouldn't be able to stay away forever. Something inside him has been calling him back since the moment he left. Yet, even without any doing of his own, he's somehow managed to land here again - the last place he knows he should ever be.

He can feel one of his captors still hovering behind him and he can barely hear the whispered voice of the other across the room.

"We've done as you asked. We've brought him to you,” the voice Peter's come to recognize the last few days, says in muffled tones. He knows now that they’re only henchmen. It took him longer to realize that than he’d like to admit, but now it’s all too clear. 

There's no answer to that, the silence only broken by the sound of a baby crying. In the aftermath of Letha's death, that sound sets him even more on edge than he already is.

He hears a woman's voice shush the baby and quiet footsteps carry the baby's whimpers farther away.

For a moment, the silence stretches out, until he hears the footsteps of someone moving closer, across the marble floor. 

He wonders who exactly it is that he’s _kept waiting_. In this town, there are so many options really, and none of them can possibly lead to anything good. 

For all he knows, he could have been dragged back to a lynch mob - or worse. Then there’s the other unthinkable option, but he’s trying with all his might not to allow his mind to go there.

“Are we done then?” the man behind him asks.

“Yes. Now, get out.” 

At the sound of that voice, Peter sucks in a breath. And there it is, the answer to all his questions - the voice he’s missed and dreaded all the same. 

Not that he didn’t know deep down who it was that was responsible for dragging him back to this place, but hearing Roman’s voice again makes it impossible to deny it to himself any longer.

Peter tugs experimentally at his wrists, attempting to free himself, but the ropes cut into his skin. 

One last kick lands to his ribs as the men walk past him.

In the blink of an eye, he knows that Roman is at his side. 

“Stop.” Roman commands, angry as Peter’s ever heard him.

A gentle touch caresses his bruised cheek, fingertips stroking along his jawline. This close, Peter can smell him. If the voice hadn’t given it away, that would have. The smell of _money_. It’s indescribable, yet heady, rich. Distinctly Roman. 

“You hurt him.” It’s a statement, not a question.

“Idiot,” One of the men whispers to the other. “Don’t make him angry. Are you trying to get us both killed?” 

“Don’t touch him.” His voice starts out calm, but Peter can hear the tension. He knows that Roman’s barely holding it together. “Don’t you ever fucking touch him like that again. Do you understand?”

“Yes, sir, Mr. Godfrey, sir.”

“Leave now, before I fucking kill you.” Roman growls.

Peter hears them shuffling backwards, leaving the room - leaving him alone with Roman.

Roman runs his fingers through Peter’s cropped hair. It’s only just starting to grow out again. “What have you done to yourself?” 

Roman tugs at the blindfold covering Peter’s eyes until it slides down his face, draping loosely around his neck. He loosens the gag, removes it. 

Peter licks his lips and even in the dim light, he blinks, eyes adjusting to the change. He glances around, unsurprised to find he’s back in the Godfrey mansion.

Peter rolls his shoulders and looks up to meet Roman’s eyes for the first time in six months.

“Welcome home, Peter.”

“Roman. Why am I here? Why are you doing this?”

Roman’s hand darts out, grabbing hold of Peter’s hair again. His expression changes so suddenly it catches Peter by surprise. Apparently his hair is just long enough to grip. 

“You know why!” Roman roars as he yanks Peter’s head back. “You fucking know why.”

Peter closes his eyes. Moving from place to place. Never staying in one place for long. It’s in his blood. Knowing that doesn’t make this any easier. Leaving was the hardest thing he’s ever done. And that’s saying a lot considering all the fucked up shit he went through in this town, but it doesn’t make it any less true. 

“You left me!” Roman yanks Peter’s hair again, clenching his fist in his hair painfully. “I had nothing. No one.”

“Untie me, Roman,” Peter whispers. “Let me go.”

“No,” Roman shakes his head. “I don’t think I will.” He releases his grip on Peter’s hair, sliding his hand down Peter’s cheek again until he’s cupping his chin in his hand.

“What are you going to do with me?” Peter asks. “You can’t keep me here forever. Not like this. Not as your prisoner.”

“Everyone I cared about left me, but you were the worst.” Roman slides a finger over Peter’s bottom lip. “And, do you know why?”

Peter doesn’t answer. Can’t bring himself to say it out loud.

Roman taps one finger against Peter’s lips and Peter purses, pressing against the pad of Roman’s finger. 

“No? Well then, I’ll tell you.” 

Roman takes one small steps forward, leans down, and whispers in Peter’s ear.

“You left by _choice_.”


End file.
